


Pet Acquisition

by MeagaMess



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Humor, I suck at tagging, M/M, Steter Week, pet acquisition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 09:11:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4257681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeagaMess/pseuds/MeagaMess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles needs a pet and Peter is just along for the ride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pet Acquisition

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first posted work and I know its not great but I'm pretty happy with it. I do suck at tagging so if you have any suggestions please give me them. Please forgive any misspellings or typos, I am my own proofreader with help from spellcheck and we all know how spellcheck is a prank joint gift from God and Satan. I hope you enjoy!

If Peter didn’t enjoy Stiles so much he would have made him the next animal attack victim in Beacon Hills. They had been enjoying each other got 6 months when Stiles had established his take over of half of Peter’s apartment. 3 months of cohabitation resulted in Stiles declaring they needed a pet. Peter was generally okay with this idea, expecting Stiles to lose interest in getting a pet before he even determined what kind he wanted. Peter’s simple reply to Stiles declarations was placing two conditions, one, no dogs because they were forbidden in his lease, which Stiles laughed about for a few minutes before Peter continued, two, no fish because they smell and if he wanted the scent of fish he would make it for dinner or go to the beach. Stiles agreed to Peter’s conditions and thus the pet acquisition troubles began. 

 

* * *

 

It started with a hermit crab. Peter had walked into the apartment and was immediately annoyed. “Stiles, why do I smell fish and hear constant clicking?” Peter asked in a terrifyingly calm voice.

Stiles remained unfazed by the voice and looked up from his place on the couch smiling, “I got us a hermit crab. Look his shell is even painted with Captain America!” Stiles shoved the cage at Peter while Peter stared at it in disgust with his nose scrunched and a frown smeared across his face.

“No. We’re not keeping it,” Peter said as he handed the cage back to Stiles.

Stiles looked smug as he began to reply, “Your conditions were no dogs and no fish. Cap here is not a fish-“

“I said no fish because of the smell and that thing stinks like fish rotting in the sun. No. We’re not keeping it.”

Stiles had to concede. He knew the hermit crab didn’t smell that great but with Peter’s wolfy senses it would have been a lot worse. “Fine but you can’t say no to the next one.”

 

* * *

 

Two weeks later, Peter was annoyed but accepting. After returning the hermit crab to Pet Smart, Stiles returned with a hamster. The twitchy nature of the creature had Peter’s wolf senses going crazy and viewing the thing as easy prey but he retrained himself for Stiles’ sake. Peter was also showing great control by resisting tossing that stupid squeaky wheel the damn thing constantly was running on. Nothing pissed him off more than a two a.m. wake up because that damn rodent had to run that damn wheel for no damn reason but Stiles was elated with the pest and Peter sadly had to admit an elated Stiles was much more enjoyable to keep around.

Three weeks of owning a hamster though had Peter on the brink of a murder spree. Peter was attempting to distract himself from the squeak of the wheel from hell and be productive by making dinner for himself and Stiles when a scream of bloody murder came from the living room. Peter rushed out of the kitchen and caught the scent of Stiles’ blood.

“You goddamn fucking rodent from hell! You enjoy living in your own filth, FINE but I’m not putting up with it any more! You fucking piece of shit.”

Peter was frozen in a mixed state of shock, concern, and amusement. His inner psychopath broke out first resulting in him laughing like a maniac. As he was laughing though he did walk up to Stiles to inspect the source of the blood. Peter found one of Stiles’ fingers had a deep cut that was gushing blood.

“The stupid fucking thing bit me! I was trying to take him out so I could clean out his cage but he bit me!” Stiles exclaimed while glaring at the hamster when he realized Peter was checking his hand, “We’re getting rid of him. I think I need stitches.”

Peter spent the rest of the night suppressing his inner happy dance, fixing and feeding Stiles, and sneaking the hell hamster over to Derek’s loft while he was out. Peter felt he was kind by leaving a note for Derek explaining the situation containing a death threat if the rodent was returned to his own apartment.

 

* * *

 

Stiles was distraught over the pet fiasco. A distraught Stiles was not enjoyable. “We don’t need a pet. You have Scott and he’s like a puppy,” Peter attempted to comfort Stiles.

This didn’t comfort Stiles; instead it seemed to anger him. “No. We NEED a pet.”

Seeing the determined look and stubbornness light up Stile eyes, Peter simply sighed and tried to help Stiles find another pet to attempt having. “What about a bird? You could get one that can talk as much as you.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, huffed, and shook his head. “Birds have freaked me out since I saw _The Birds_ when I was a kid.”

Peter smirked at that little fact. Stiles barely bat an eye at werewolves, had no problem facing the various supernatural beasts that invaded Beacon Hills, and even put his life back together after being possessed, but he’s freaked out by birds. At that point Peter knew he was involved with a crazy person but he was okay with that.

“What about a lizard or snake?”

“No, I want nothing that reminds me of a creepy, crawly monster. A scaly reptile would make me think of the Kanima incident, which in turn would make me think of Jackson, which is another thing I don’t want to think about,” Stiles rambled.

“You could get a different rodent. Maybe a bigger species, like a guinea pig or ferret.” Peter suggested.

Stiles was quick to reply to that suggestion, “Nope. Done with rodents, big or small.” Stiles sighed, “Thanks for trying to help but I’m tired and am just going to go to bed.”

Peter accepted this, kissed him and watched Stiles pad to the bedroom. Peter was almost ready to allow Stiles to have a fish or even the hermit crab again if it would cheer him up. He was going to sleep on it and weigh the pros and cons out of the smelly marine life.

 

* * *

 

Peter was pretty confused when Stiles came in the next afternoon from lunch with his father speaking with baby talk voice. He was also confused wen he turned around to find Stiles hugging something to his chest, wrapped in his plaid shirt. It seemed Stiles had found a new pet.

Stiles looked up with the biggest grin on his face. “You can’t say no to this one. I’ve rescued her, she wasn’t part of your conditions, she wasn’t on my no list, she followed me for a few blocks, let me pick her up with little fuss, and ILOVE her,” Stiles finished as he squeezed the bundle closer to his chest.

Peter stared at Stiles, remaining stoic in face, “What is she because all I can see is you hugging your shirt in a ball and all I can smell resembles that of the back alley of an Italian restaurant.”

Stiles continued to grin as he took a step forward and pulled back a piece of the bundled up shirt. “She is a cat and I’ve named her Princess Leia.”

Peter just stared at the creature revealed. The cat was grey in color, longhaired, dirty, smelly, and beat up. It had scars in its nose, a rather large bald spot on its head revealing a scabbed over wound, and a piece of ear missing on the right outer edge. Looking at just the cat’s head Peter assumed the rest of the creature wouldn’t be well off either. With Peter’s luck he could just imagine Stiles getting even more attached to the cat only to find out its sick and dying. Peter decided he had to stop that from happening, “The only way we are keeping that in this apartment is if you can bring it to Deaton and he gives it a clean bill of health. Otherwise you will be leaving it with him and we will go on trying to find you the pet you apparently need.”

Stiles was sure Princess Leia was healthy enough so he quickly nodded as he wrestled his phone out of his pocket to make an appointment for his precious fluffball.

 

* * *

 

Luck seemed to be on Stiles side. Deaton had a real vet appointment opening at two that day and Stiles grabbed it up. It honestly didn’t matter to Stiles if there was an opening, he would have gone there and remained there until Deaton checked out Princess Leia.

Stiles had gathered Princess Leia and turned to Peter, “Come on. We have an appointment at two and then we’ll need to go to the pet store and get everything Princess Leia will need.”

“If Deaton gives her the all clear,” Peter sighed as he followed Stiles out of the building and into the car.

The drive over consisted of Peter rolling his eyes often and Stiles speaking baby talk to the cat as he rubbed around its ears. Peter almost hoped everything turned out well for the cat because he knew in this short time Stiles was so attached to the damn thing he would be heartbroken if they couldn’t keep it. On the other hand, Peter was almost positive there was going to be something wrong with that cat. He couldn’t believe an animal in this shape, living on the streets could be healthy enough to be a pet.

 

* * *

 

Peter was proven very wrong. Despite the appearance of the being in poor shape, the damn animal was in perfect health. Deaton had informed an ecstatic Stiles that Princess Leia’s vitals were good, appeared to be suffering no physical ailments, was spayed, and had likely been abandoned by her previous owners based on her seemingly good health and lack of fear towards any of them. There was blood work that needed to be completed but Deaton anticipated it also being clear based on the likelihood of abandonment. He had also told Stiles that Leia’s coloring was deceiving. She had apparently been in desperate need of a bath and was actually such a light grey color; she could almost be mistaken for all white.

Peter’s shock was evident but missed from observation because of Stiles joyful exclamation and sweeping up of Princess Leia. “Thanks Doc. Come on Peter, we need to get to Pet Smart. There is so much we need for our little princess.” Stiles said in a mix of normal English and baby talk so quickly had Deaton and Peter not been used to such speed from the younger man he would not have been understood. Before any replies could be made, Stiles had managed to drag Peter to the door and continued for the car.

 

* * *

 

After ten minutes in the Pet Smart Peter realized that there was no way he was leaving without spending a couple hundred dollars. Peter had expected them to be in and out quickly, getting cat food, litter box and litter, and maybe a brush and a cat toy. Stiles obviously had bigger plans.

Stiles practically skipped into Pet Smart and grabbed a shopping cart. Peter was more reserved in his walking behind Stiles. He also remained quiet while Stiles quizzed the sales girl on the best cat food. Peter wanted to massacre everyone in the store when the girl suggested getting a few brands in various flavors for the cat after hearing about the situation and explaining the possibility of preferences and sensitivities unknown with rescued strays. Peter knew that Stiles, who never did anything half way, would proceed to overcommit to such a suggestion.

For once that day, Peter was very right. Stiles thanked the sales girl and began to grab a can of every flavor and every brand available as well as the smallest size available for every flavor and brand of cat crunchies and cat treats.

Peter’s desire to kill was lessened when Stiles quizzed another sales person on which litter and litter box to get. Litter guy simply said that the box should be big enough to fit the cat with some space but small enough to not be in the way in your living environment. Peter barely let Stiles take the information in before he grabbed a basic plastic box with a high ledge that was one of the cheapest. Stiles simply smiled and nodded when he saw Peter’s selection. While the suggestions for litter was not as simple, it was still better than cat food girl. Litter guy explained that if the previous brand used was unknown to choose the cheapest because, “you will go through a lot more than you expect and it will begin to really add up. The only real decision you need to make is if you plan to scoop the used litter or change the whole box every few days.”

Stiles and Peter discussed that and they concluded with Peter’s sensitive nose it would be best if they scooped it so the scent couldn’t linger for very long. They grabbed the cheapest scoop-able litter and Stiles then led Peter to the cat toy section. This turned out to be the danger zone in Peter’s opinion.

Stiles with his ADHD saw the possibility of boredom with every toy, for him and Princess Leia, but instead of finding one or two toys that would have the best potential for holding attention, Stiles grabbed one of every kind. Mice, strings, feathers, lights. Treat fillers, catnip fillers, and jingling things. Then Stiles reached the end of the aisle and saw the kitty condos.

“No,” Peter said sternly once seeing Stiles’ eyes land on the monstrosities.

Stiles turned to Peter with a stubborn set to his face and proceeded. “If we get a kitty condo, Princess Leia will scratch that instead of your furniture and walls. We could also get one that is big enough for her to sleep in and thus limiting the amount of cat hair on your furniture and the possibility of her sleeping in the bed with us.”

On the one hand, Peter had to agree to a degree with those arguments but on the other hand, Peter knew that with his luck the cat would not do as expected making those valid arguments moot. Peter conceded though because he knew if he didn’t give in now he would be given hell until he had.

Stiles grabbed a rather large kitty condo with three stories, a covered padded section, a dangling feather toy attached, and cost far too much in Peter’s opinion. IT seemed though that Peter’s opinion did not count for much in the current situation.

That was further proven after walking out of the pet store with a receipt for almost a grand charged to Peter’s card. All Peter could think was how this damn cat better make stiles more enjoyable or Derek was going to acquire another annoyance and death threat.

 

* * *

 

Two weeks of being cat owners wasn’t so bad. Stiles fed and played with the cat, and both maintained a pristine litter box by scooping it as soon as one realized it had been used. Princess Leia seemed to have no food sensitivities or even preferences. She ate whatever was placed in front of her. Princess Leia even slept on the Kitty condo at night but through the day she could be found sprawled over the furniture or even Peter’s lap when he was concentrated and still. She had attempted napping on Stiles but his fidgeting just aggravated her. Peter had even come to like that cat.

 

* * *

 

Stiles came home a few weeks later to a sight that made him giggle. Peter was sitting in his armchair reading a book being held by on hand and lazily petting and scratching Princess Leia stretched out on the other arm.

Peter looked up to greet Stiles, “Hi. How was your day?”

Stiles smiled, “It was good. Finished two papers, started another, and completed all the readings I needed for the next week. Want to play?”

Peter smirked, “You get yourself ready while I finish this chapter.”

Stiles hesitated and then let out a full body laugh. “You look like a movie villain with your slow cat petting.”

Peter stopped petting Princess Leia to assess the situation. The lack of pets and scratches had Princess Leia protesting loudly and twisting to swat at Peter’s hand. Instinctively, Peter went back to petting Princess Leia. Stiles continued to giggle as he sauntered over to the armchair. He lifted Princess Leia and spoke as he walked to the kitty condo, “You’ve had him all day. It is my turn now.”

 


End file.
